Wednesday, November 17
Yes, Yes I DidIn an effort to keep Janice happy, here's a write-up of Friday night as soon as I can get it done. Well, kind of. I blatantly could have done it at the weekend, but I was still feeling the after-effects on Sunday evening. It was that heavy a night.
I got to Rachel's at about 9.30, with the party just getting under way. As I mentioned above, it was going to be a bit of a cocktail party, in that she'd bought a few big punch bowls and was going to make random cocktails in them. Of course, only one or two ended up being made, and the party soon descended into all-out drinking.
I was drinking anything and everything I could get my hands on, ranging from Gin-OJ to Dooley's, via Rum-Coke and Raspberry schnapps. Incidentally, the raspberry schnapps that I bought is the most disgusting thing ever. Truly vomit-inducing, if not literally. There wasn't a single person there who liked it, which is a rare thing indeed at a party. Usually there's at least one iron-stomach person at every party.
We were hanging around in Rachel's bedroom and kitchen, alternately drinking and munching on the impressive spread she'd given us, when for some reason some ass-grabbing started. I have no idea who first grabbed who's ass, but it escalated somewhat. At the beginning, some of the guys were giving the girls almighty slaps across the ass, but Amy taught us the 'correct' technique.
Apparently, at the point of impact, you need to clench a little. Who would have thought there could be a correct technique for ass slapping / grabbing? I learned well, and partook of as much practice as possible for the rest of the evening.
It wasn't just me, in my defence. It got to the point where you couldn't walk across the kitchen without having 4 or 5 different people slap your ass. Fucking hilarious it was, to see everyone backed up against the walls, not daring to venture out into the middle of the room. Add the fact that we were all quite, quite pissed, and you get the full picture.
I (rather cunningly) perched myself near the drinks, which meant I was able to carry on pouring and drinking without fear of my ass being manipulated. Although every time I turned round there was still some random hands groping. I didn't dare check to see if they were male or female. It could have been either, since everyone was grabbing everyone.
I seem to remember GTIMPBSIITAGTKABB taking one almighty slap on her ass from one too-eager guy (not me, I hasten to add), which must have left a beauty of a red handprint, but I think I got off lightly. All I got was gentle groping. Evidently girls are better at it than we are, or have had more practice. The hussies.
I was chatting to loads of people, some of whom I hadn't seen since the end of our language course in September. I think I invited practically everyone to come out this Friday for my birthday drinking session, which means I will have to spend a fortune texting everyone the details. Dammit. At least it means that we will take over whichever bar we go to!
I was getting a bit drunk (OK, so bordering on very) by this point, but for some reason my memory remains clear. I know, I can hardly believe it either! Usually I have a terrible memory of nights out drinking, if I have any at all, but I can remember practically everything about Friday night. Which has its own pitfalls, let's be honest. For instance, I can remember just how drunk I was, which is never a good thing. Stupid unpredictable memory.
We went down to Bar Drei at some stage (I was reliably informed last night that it was around 3.30), and carried on with the drinking. I saw Rachel last night, and she couldn't understand exactly why it was that we went to Bar Drei, since there was still loads of booze in her kitchen. I think it's to do with timing. Bar Drei calls you at 3.30, in a manner that you cannot refuse.
I didn't know our arrival there was so late. I thought we'd been there for ages when I left to go home, but it seems that we were only (only!) there for about 2 and a half hours. Yes, this means that I left Bar Drei sometime around 6 in the morning. For shame. I know this because I remember seeing my clock when I got home, and being slightly (although not really) astonished that it was 6.30 in the morning. I think that's a new record for actually getting home from the night before, although there's been many a night when I have no memory of getting home at all. I stand to be corrected.
Whilst we were in Bar Drei, I remember chatting to Amy loads, about fuck knows what. I also remember the ass-grabbing antics continuing unabashed. Thankfully it didn't involve anyone who wasn't at the party, which could have got a bit iffy if it had happened. Can you imagine a horde of random people slapping your ass as you walk to the bar, especially if they have mastered the 'clench as you impact' technique? Well, most people wouldn't mind, I guess, so long as it was only the opposite sex. Unfortunately we were far too far gone to care who's ass we were slapping. I blame the alcohol.
And now here comes the crap part of the night. Well, sort of. GTIMPBSIITAGTKABB was there, as I've previously mentioned, and she was fairly wasted, as we all were. She was sitting at some table with everyone whilst me and Amy were standing up and chatting nearby. I think I got a touch jealous (but not visibly) because she was kissing (I think) some random guy at some point. I didn't make a point of staring or shit like that, because I still don't know how I feel (or if I do at all) about her, but I could feel myself being a little disappointed.
There was then some jokey jealousness (honestly, this really was in humour) as Amy and GTIMPBSIITAGTKABB pecked each other on the lips a few times. There might have been tongues during one, but I can't be certain. I remember saying some shit like (Kevin voice:) "That's so unfair! You're allowed to kiss each other, but guys can't get anywhere near you. That's so unfair!" This was genuinely in good humour, and they took it so. Random drunkenness, you know how it is.
As the night drew to a close, I found myself sitting at a table, wondering whether I should say anything to GTIMPBSIITAGTKABB, and if I did what to say. I didn't hugely want to, but in my drunken stupor I was torn as to whether to say anything. There was also the distinct possibilty of her not remembering in the morning even if I did. Hell, there was the distinct possibility of me not remembering in the morning!
And so it is with a heavy heart that I must report that I did indeed say something. Unfortunately, this is the point where memory does start to get hazy (come on, it was 6am and I'd been drinking since 9pm! Cut me some slack), so I can't remember word for word what it was I said.
I think the general sentiment was along the lines of "I don't know if you know, but I really like you." Smooth, I know. You have to picture me slurring my words to get the full effect. I rule.
Her response I do remember clearly: "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Rob", followed by leaning over and kissing me on the lips, before leaving the bar and me.
Talk about fucking things up Rob, jeez. I haven't seen or spoken to her since, which is blatantly a mistake. Like I said, I'm not sure how I feel about her, nor how to go about telling her if I do. I'm still as crap as ever in this kind of situation. I should just meet up with her, right? Shit.
And then there's the Jillain factor. Again, my feelings there are just as confused. I don't know what or who I want. And I have a sneaking suspicion that she's going to read this before I can get in touch with her and say what I want to say.
I really need to stop telling people about this blog, don't I?